


You're So Cool, So Cool

by slaughteravenue



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Danger Days Era, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), One Shot, The Fabulous Killjoys (Danger Days) Are Not MCR, Trans Party Poison (Danger Days), fun ghoul POV, jet star is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slaughteravenue/pseuds/slaughteravenue
Summary: Oneshot in which the Killjoys love their hair, but the Zones are just too goddamn hot.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Kudos: 15





	You're So Cool, So Cool

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is a super short n sweet fic i've been sitting on for a fucking minute. i wrote this last summer and now, as i look out my window and see nothing but piles of snow, i felt the need to revisit it. first ever published fic, woohoo! i currently have three other much longer fics in progress, but whether or not any of those will see the light of day is a gamble at this point. thanks for reading!

It was that time of the year again. What time it was exactly, no one could tell you, since keeping track of time in a cyclical sense was a practice long since abandoned in the desert. The killjoys left that tradition for the BLi zombies back in Battery City. Life in the zones was just too unpredictable to be kept track of in a manner other than in a “yesterday, today, and tomorrow” way. The sun stretched days all began to run together at a certain point. Calendars didn’t serve anyone out in the desert and the whole system became obsolete pretty quickly. Fun Ghoul was willing to bet money on the fact that none of the other four in the diner could even list all of the months of the year. He couldn’t either actually, but at least he recalled some of them from that old rhyme he’d learned in primary school.

“30 days has September, April, May, and November, all the rest have 31, except February, it has 28 and on leap year it has 29,” he mumbled rhythmically from his heat daze, not quite awake but not quite asleep either, rolling over from his sheetless mattress onto the floor. Whatever month it may be, it was that time of year where it was hot as hell. Like, literally hell-maybe hotter. Ghoul wondered absently if the devil might be a more merciful ruler than the sun.

It was always hot, the desert made sure of that, but there was at least a part of the year where sticky days would give in to almost pleasantly temperate nights, and The Four would hang out on the roof of the diner all night and spend the heat of the day unconscious. Annoyingly, this was not that time of the year. This was the time when miserable sticky nights gave way to face-meltingly hot days, and in his agony Fun Ghoul swore the sun was getting closer to earth each day just to spite him.

He had given up on sleeping. It was just too fucking hot, his skin sticking to his sheets every time he moved made him want to shriek if only it ddn’t require so much energy, so he settled for sending out telepathic curses to the Pheonix Witch or whoever else might be responsible for creating this hell instead. 

Finally having had enough, he thrashed himself into an upright position, untangled the sheet from his bare legs with malice, and made his way into the main part of the diner. Faint murmurs of conversation drifted through the room and he moved towards the sound, stepping with care to avoid tripping on the various tools, machine parts, and spray paint cans strewn about in the dark. Behind the counter at the far wall were Kobra Kid and Party Poison, looking just about as miserable as Ghoul felt. Kobra's usually pristine hair lie plastered to his skin the same way Ghoul’s was and the redhead was sprawled dramatically across the floor, sporting a stylish combination of their binder and some boxers that Ghoul was pretty sure didn’t belong to any of the four.

“‘S cooler on the tile,” they muttered in lieu of an explanation before Ghoul even had the chance to ask. Kobra just looked up and shrugged.

At the sink, Ghoul splashed his face with a jug of lukewarm water and filled a glass, draining it halfway in two massive gulps. He dashed Party Poison’s stomach with it as he stepped over his seemingly lifeless friend who emitted a shriek in response, resulting in Kobra Kid swatting at their arm, thus evoking an even louder shriek.

“If you wake the Girl up she’s going to wake Jet up and you know it’s too hot for coffee and I can’t fucking deal with him while he’s overtired and under caffeinated.” Kobra hissed at his writhing sibling.

“Don’t touch me then, sweaty bastard.” Party groaned in pain and rolled to their stomach, unsticking strands of red from their face and pressing their forehead into the tile. Ghoul realized then that he wasn’t sure anyone had ever actually bothered to clean that floor for as long as the diner had been their pseudo home. Not even after the time Kobra ate a can of Power Pup that was just a few years too expired and barfed all over the place. Huh. He opened his mouth to say as much when Poison abruptly announced, “It smells like shit down here,” and hauled themself off the tile with a groan. “I have made a decision.” 

They followed their theatrical declaration by stalking off to the bathroom, and Kobra gave Ghoul a look that very clearly meant “I’m not moving from this spot in the next millennium so you better go see what the fuck they’re doing because I don’t want to talk them off the edge of bleaching their eyebrows again like I did a few days ago,” so Ghoul just pulled a half hearted annoyed face in return and moved to trail Poison into the bathroom. Kobra was really good at communicating without words. 

Ghoul entered the bathroom to the sight of his red haired counterpart wiping the dust off of the mirror with a towel in one hand and Kobra’s battery-powered razor in the other.

“Nope. Nope, not happening, give me it. Jesus, Poison do you know how hard it is to find hair dye? You’re not shaving your head for fuck’s sake, it wouldn’t even suit you, give me that,” Ghoul lunged for the razor and Party Poison lept back and held it out of his reach giggling. “You’re a menace!” He wailed as the other climbed on top of the closed toilet, still waving the razor. “I did not nearly get ghosted last week while trying to lift a box of dye for you just for it all to end up in the trashcan.” 

“Shut the fuck UP,” came a muffled reply from the other side of the wall, punctuated by the sound of a mostly asleep Jet Star pounding the wall. Ghoul attempted to affix Party Poison with his most annoyed glare, but his friend was grinning like a maniac and it was contagious.

“I’m not shaving my whole head Ghoul, I’m too fuckin’ pretty.” Poison hopped off the toilet and set the razor back on the counter, looking at their reflection pensively.  
Damn right fuckin’ pretty, Ghoul thought, watching as they shook their hair loose from the ponytail it was in. “Help me shave underneath. Maybe the side too, it’ll help with the heat,” Poison was already getting to work separating their hair into sections. “Plus it’ll look badass.” 

Ghoul picked a towel up from the floor and draped it around Party Poison’s shoulders. “This part?” Ghoul asked, taking a section of hair near Poison’s ear. They nodded, so Ghoul switched the razor on and dragged it gently over their scalp in a single upwards movement. A bundle of red came off easily in Ghoul’s non razor-wielding hand and he held it out for Poison to see.  
“I could make a voodoo doll out of this,” he deadpanned.

“You wish,” Poison retorted, snatching the hair and inspecting it. “It’s not as greasy as I thought, nice.” They dropped the hair at their feet and Ghoul moved to the section in the back. He did the same there as he did on the side and brushed as much of the hair as possible off Poison’s neck. 

“Do you want me to do the other side or…?” Party took a moment to check themself out in the mirror and run their hands over the fuzzy shaved parts, beaming. 

“I think I like the asymmetry. This looks sick Ghoul, feels so much lighter.” The redhead shook their hair out and Ghoul took a moment to admire his handiwork. Or maybe he was just admiring his friend, whatever. “Okay, now you.” 

Ghoul faltered. He was kind of attached to his hair. It was inconvenient in the heat because it always stuck to his neck, but he thought it looked cool all overgrown like this. Party Poison was convincing though...they did look cool as hell with the side shave and it was an ungodly level of hot even in the dimly lit bathroom in the middle of the night. Plus, who was Ghoul trying to impress, it’s not like the four frequently came in contact with anyone who wasn’t trying to rob them or kill them. 

“Fuck it,” Ghoul sighed, meeting eyes with Poison in the mirror and throwing him a tired grin. “Work your magic.” Party Poison beamed. They stuck their hands into Ghoul’s hair without further prompting and began sectioning pieces off experimentally. They got that look in their eye that was generally reserved for when they were absorbed in an art project, sketching or spray painting or making elaborate sculptures out of interesting scrap metal collected on missions just for that purpose. Maybe it was a pretentious thought, but the idea of being a piece of Poison’s artwork made Ghoul’s heart swell. 

“Okay, this is what I’m thinking,” Party Poison said, gently turning Ghoul’s head so that he could get a good view in the mirror. They had sectioned off a large part on either side of Fun Ghoul’s head and put the remaining hair in a hasty bun to keep it out of the way. Ghoul looked ridiculous and said as much with a giggle. Poison put a hand to their chest in a dramatized act of mock offense, but the longer Ghoul looked in the mirror the better he could picture the final outcome. It would give him a sort of faux hawk look, which was totally badass. 

“I can get with this. Do you have any bleach left?” 

Party Poison just pulled open the cabinet below the sink and gave a borderline maniacal grin in response.  
***  
Party Poison’s free hand was laced in Fun Ghoul’s hair as he finished shaving the second side. He didn’t know how much he was enjoying it until Poison switched off the razor and pulled away. There was something oddly intimate about the way they combed their fingers through Ghoul’s hair and he had to focus a little too hard to keep his breathing steady. He barely had time to glimpse his appearance in the mirror before Poison was rooting around in the cabinet underneath it to find his leftover bleach and developer. 

“I’ve never done anything to my hair before. Other than cut it, I mean,” Ghoul mused thoughtfully as the redhead mixed up the bleach expertly. 

“You, mister Ghoul, have not lived. You’re sure about this, right? The bleach will take a while to grow out.” Ghoul didn’t care so he just shrugged noncommittally, but really he just wanted Poison’s hands back in his hair like, yesterday.  
***  
Fun Ghoul could see the hair start to lighten in the mirror even before he rinsed the bleach off and the sides of his head had the strangest itchy-tingly-burning sensation. He reached up to scratch it but Party caught his hand midair. “It’s normal, it’s like a demon trying to claw his way out of your scalp, I know. Fuck off, quit touching it or you”ll regret it.” Poison swatted his other hand away from his head. “It’s like you’re asking me to tie you up, you know I will.” 

Ghoul responded with only an eyebrow raise and definitely didn’t take a moment to imagine how that scenario might go. Definitely not. 

“Is it time to take this off yet, it fucking stings,” he grumbled. Party Poison leaned in and gingerly inspected the shaved part closest to them. 

“Yeah, it looks done? Kinda hard to tell, but if I know if you have to sit still any longer you’ll probably implode so,” 

Since working electricity and water weren’t things that generally came guaranteed when you’re squatting in a decrepit desert diner, Ghoul had to awkwardly bend over and stick his head over the sink and scrub out the bleach while Poison dumped a jug of water over his head. They stood over him with one hand holding the jug and the other placed low and firm at the nape of his neck, because they were trying to fucking kill him or something. God. 

Ghoul sighed dramatically in relief as the water alleviated the burning from the bleach, causing Poison to intentionally splash some water onto his face.

“Sorry princess,” they snickered, causing a blush to once again creep across Ghoul’s cheeks. 

“Okay, I think you’re good.” Party Poison set the jug down on the counter top but didn’t remove their hand from Ghoul’s neck, who was maybe a bit too aware of its weight. Ghoul raised up carefully and Poison creeped a hand up and laced their fingers in the hair at the back of his head. They tugged him close before he even had the chance to look in the mirror and pressed their lips together. Ghoul was stunned into stillness for a moment, then stepped closer and placed a hand on the side of the other’s face, brushing their finger over the fuzzy shaved spot around their ear. He felt Poison smile against his lips. 

After a few moments, Party Poison, ever the proud bastard, couldn’t help but pull back to admire their handiwork. “You look amazing,” they said softly. Ghoul caught his reflection in the mirror and, wow. He looked badass, he really did. The shaved spots did give him a faux hawk of sorts, the almost-black of his natural hair contrasting harshly against the bleached sides. 

“I dig the new look,” he said, still checking himself out in the mirror and beaming. Party Poison crinkled their nose with a smile and snaked their hands around Ghoul’s middle, gazing at the pair’s reflection over his shoulder. Unable to help himself any longer, Ghoul spun around to face Poison, taking in the mischievous glint in their eyes. He allowed himself to be backed into the counter as red hair-dye stained hands found their way into his hair again. Ghoul fumbled blindly for the doorknob, grinning in satisfaction when he managed to click it locked on his first try. 

***

It must have been later in the night than he thought because when he finally emerged from the bathroom with Poison, the sun was just starting to illuminate the horizon. Kobra was still awake, having relocated to a booth where he was curled against the cracked vinyl cushion with a book balanced on his knees. When he registered the pair’s new looks he just blinked. 

“The fuck happened in there?”

Ghoul and Poison slid into the booth across from him and the redhead slid their brother’s battery razor onto the table. Kobra was exceptionally good at reading people, especially Poison, so by a mere eyebrow raise met with a quirk of his sibling’s lip he understood, unfortunately, exactly what had occured aside from the impulsive appearance changes. Poison was never very good at keeping secrets. 

Later that morning when The Girl emerged, tugging a mostly asleep Jet Star by the wrist, the three were still in the same position in the booth. In between hushed banter Kobra was still reading his book, which turned out to be an operator’s manual to a motorcycle he definitely didn’t own (the others had long stopped questioning his idea of entertainment), and Poison was sketching on a notepad with Ghoul practically hanging onto their shoulder observing and making eyes at them. 

“Ghoul, your hair!” The Girl exclaimed, rushing over to feel the fuzzy sides and giggling. It was at that point that Jet was actually starting to become sentient, and slowly took in the scene in front of him, eyes moving over his friend’s altered hairstyles and then settling on the razor on the table. His eyes widened and a hand flew up to his overgrown curls.

“Don’t even get any ideas,” Jet said, stroking his hair defensively. The four others just grinned at him like they were in some stupid sitcom. Jet sighed, waving a dismissive hand at the four. He mumbled something unintelligible and turned back in the direction of his bed, smiling all the same.


End file.
